


Two Rivers Winter

by saintsavage



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Faile is Stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsavage/pseuds/saintsavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perrin and Faile go for a ride in the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Rivers Winter

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why this popped in to my head but enjoy the fluff?

The decision to spend the winter in Two Rivers had been fairly easy compared to everything else. Construction had just finished on the oversized manor Faile had insisted they have built as their old house - _house, Light! As if it had been the biggest building in Two Rivers!_ \- wasn't suited to their new station. Granted, while in Andor Perrin was there as a Steward, not a King, but getting Faile to understand plain reason was like trying to hammer a square peg in to a circle-shaped opening.  
  
Still, he was glad to be home. Even if that home looked like a bloody palace.  
  
Perrin made his way downstairs, for once too excited to be bothered by the flurry of 'my Lords' thrown his way as he sought out his wife. Today wasn't a special day of any kind, not really, there weren't any feasts or dances or grand goings-on in the works. But then again those sort of events only made the former blacksmith jump halfway out of his skin in agitation.  
  
Happiness for him was a long ride in the mountains with Faile - without an absurd amount of hangers-on. Even Gaul, Bain, and Chiad wouldn't be joining them.  
  
He found her in the entryway of the house giving last minute instructions to several individuals that he refused to consider servants. They were just... hired hands. That was all. _Light, I can't even think that with a straight face. Never thought the day would come when I'd have so much that needed doing that I'd need ten extra hands to get it all done!_  
  
Though Faile had dressed in a warm, well-made wool dress, the skirts divided for riding, she had neglected to put on her fur-lined gloves or a cloak which had Perrin frowning at the woman in question. Not that he'd go so far as to say anything, he'd been married long enough to know better. Instead he slowly - deliberately - pulled on his own gloves before fastening the heavy green cloak she'd made for him last Bel Tine.  
  
She pointedly ignored his unsubtle hint and went outside.  
  
Ordinarily Perrin might have left things alone. It wasn't like they were going far and if she got cold they could always ride back... but he was had been looking forward to this, to spending the whole day with his wife without anybody asking about the silver or where they should build the new stable. He knew if they had to come back early there'd be no getting away a second time.  
  
"Uhh, Faile?" Already mounted on her sleek, silver mare his wife continued to pay him no mind, focusing instead on smoothing her skirts and arranging the reins just so. Perrin tried again. "Do you want Masie to run back and grab your cloak? The embroidered one, with the wolves?" He offered a bright smile when she finally looked at him, even if she was annoyed. Master Luhhan always said it was best to compliment a woman when you were telling her something she didn't seem to like so Perrin cast his mind about for something to say that wouldn't sound foolish. "You always look, umm, very well in red-"  
  
The flat look she gave him made it clear he wasn't fooling anyone. "Get on Stepper, Perrin, before I leave you behind." His mother didn't raise fools: Perrin quickly mounted and did his best to not listen to her muttering. "Acts as though I've never ridden in the winter, like I'm some fragile, wispy nothing of a girl. Notice he didn't say anything to the other women out and about without cloaks or gloves oh no..."  
  
Two hours later, on the ridge overlooking the whole of Two Rivers (which was thousands of citizens larger than it had been years prior) Perrin stood next to his lovely, stubborn wife and dutifully ignored her shivering even as she scooted closer, seeking out his warmth.  
  
After a moment's hesitation he draped a heavy arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side and partially under his cloak. "Would you like my cloak?"  
  
"I'm not cold." Her teeth are _chattering_.  
  
He remains quiet, waits.  
  
"Perrin, we have winter in Saldaea too. I'm fine."  
  
"Would you like my cloak anyway?"  
  
Silence.  
  
Perrin waits, patient, content to take in the view with his slowly thawing wife for as long as it takes for her to admit she just might _possibly_ be chilled. Finally she gives a quick, curt nod of her head, stepping back so that he can undo the clasp and wrap it around her. It's too big, of course, the hem trailing in the snow, but Faile seems grateful for the warmth.  
  
When they're ready to continue their leisurely ride Perrin helps her mount, unable to resist a small smile at the picture she makes, drowning in his over-large cloak. She looks like their little Desi, right down to the pout. The difference is that Faile knows well what he's thinking. "Shut up, blacksmith."  
  
"I didn't say anything."


End file.
